Yea, twas the eve of Christmas day that the Grey Wizard, having a mirth-filled visit with his elders did laden his cart with all manner of food stores and gifts he did receive and, along with an elven friend, did set forth on the long journey back to his dwelling many leagues away. The sun had already passed beyond the horizon, leaving only strips of red and orange that faded into a deep blue night sky. Overhead, the stars were coming out and looked down on the lone cart making its way along the twisting road. Coming at last upon lands that bordered The Village, the old wizard entertained the notion of stopping in for a look, though time was pressing. Over the hill and around the next bend the lights of many candles set in windows or lanterns could be seen twinkling among the dark silhouettes of the many dwellings set against an evening sky. So welcoming was the sight that one could not help but pull in for just a moment.

The wizard turned the cart into the familiar entrance, flanked by stone fences that seemed to spread like welcoming arms. The gate-warden checked the cart but remembered the wizard and allowed him to pass, such now were the names of wizards, elves, rangers and hobbits among the folk of the village. The cart was steered right and passed by an orchard and down a small hill, parking under the eves of a great sycamore tree. The elf elected to remain in the cart, thus, the wizard laid hold of his trusted staff and strolled off into the night.

It was absolutely quiet. The folk of the village had either retired or were with loved ones indoors, although movement could be seen occasionally from a window here and there. He reached the steps of the Trustees Office, where some of the finest foods in all the lands had been sampled. The memories came easily to mind as he stood there, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lantern. The tearful parting of many years ago on the steps…the welcoming of a band of hobbits from the far north…the company of a beautiful maiden even many long years before that all came to mind.

Passing through the gate and onto the main road he half-expected to behold cloaked figures making their way along the well-trodden path, but there were only rows of trees, standing like silent sentinels to each side. Walking west, he came at last to the West Family dwelling. Turing in through a gate and climbing a small embankment, he looked upon the doors, now closed and silent, where the Dancing Pony had been. The windows were dark, no sound of laughing nor song of the bard was to be heard, save from memory. To the left was the path that rangers had once charged down in defense of a fair maiden. Beyond that was the Trading Post, all of its goods now enjoying their new home or being given as gifts themselves.

The wizard suddenly realized the time and knew he must now make haste back to his cart, but before leaving he turned west; the last remnants of the day was now but a pale blue glow on the distant horizon. Though all the land now lay dark before him, the wizard knew beyond lay the lands of the halflings and the party tree, the warrior’s field, the Elvin falls and the remains of a stone bridge deep in the darkened valley of the Ancient Forest.

The village would never be as it once was for this old wizard. No, there were too many memories here now and he looked upon folks and events unseen by others. What might the future bring? Who could say, but he took comfort in the notion that there would more likely than not be gatherings of curious folk in the future - quite unexpected! He dwelled upon this and other matters in silence for some time. Suddenly, he turned, struck a light to his staff and walked off into the gathering mists of the evening.